Playdate
by Simon920
Summary: Dick Grayson spends a day with a young circus fan. There is, of course, more to it than that...conclusion is now up. Please note that this is a deathfic.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Play date /Part 1 of ?

Author: Simon

Characters: The Flying Graysons

Rating: PG

Summary: While still in the circus, Dick spends a day with a young fan.

Warnings: none

Disclaimers: These guys aren't mine, they don't belong to me, worst luck, so don't bother me.

Archive: Fine, but if you want it, please ask first.

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Please note: I've made Dick about twelve in this story. His parents are still alive.

**Play date**

The little girl was sitting in the front row and normally Dick wouldn't pay any attention, but she'd been pointed out to him by Pop because it was her birthday. He always tried to make a deal over kids, Pop did—especially when he knew it was a birthday and so he'd asked Dick to go over after the performers parade that always started the show and give some flowers to the girl.

Blushing and at his parent's urging, he'd done it, hating every second of it. She'd been surrounded by a group of maybe ten other girls and a few parents to boot and every single one of them either oohed and ahhed or giggled when he'd handed her the handful of daffodils.

Except the girl herself—she had taken the small bouquet from him, blushed and stammered her thanks.

And then she had stared at him throughout the entire rest of the show. When he was backstage, waiting for his cue, he could see her waiting for him to appear by peeking through the slit in the curtain. When he made his entrance, she had fixated on him to the exclusion of anyone and anything else. When he'd performed his part in the act he could feel her eyes on him and when he made his bow and descended from the rigging he couldn't see anything but her watching him.

It was almost creepy.

After the show, back at the trailer and changed into an old pair of jeans and an equally old Haley tee shirt, he was starting his math homework when his father came in. "Dick, there's a young lady who would like to speak with you for a minute."

Mom looked up from mending a torn pair of tights. "Who is it?"

"The birthday girl from the show. I think she wants an autograph or a picture—go ahead, Dick. Be nice to her."

His mother seemed to know something about this; he looked at her for an answer. "Her mother's name is Susan Landon and she spoke to me earlier—I meant to tell you, but I simply forgot honey, I'm sorry. They live here in town and she said her daughter—Sarah, I think? Anyway she said her daughter had seen your picture in the paper or something and asked for tickets and to meet you. I didn't think you'd mind, honey. Okay?"

Oh, man. It was part of the job, but—oh, man. "Okay."

"A little enthusiasm would be good."

Dick plastered a smile on his face and faced the enemy.

She was standing there with her mother, the other girls, her friends, were back about twenty feet and giggling. He wished they'd all go away and leave him alone. Right now. Long division was looking pretty good, in fact.

He wasn't sure what to say, so, "…Hi."

Her mother touched her arm, giving her a little shove. "Hi…um, you were really good."

"Thank you." He'd been taught to be polite to fans.

She looked like she wanted to say more, but shyness got the better of her, she looked at her mom. "Go ahead, Sarah, it's all right."

The girl seemed to gather up her nerve. "I was wondering, are you were going to be here long?"

"You mean in, um, this town?" He'd already forgotten it's name, if he'd ever bothered to learn it.

She nodded. "I was thinking, um, I thought that—I mean…" She was close to panic, her eyes landed on his sneakers, studying the scuffmarks or something before she continued in a rush of words. "I was thinking that maybe if you were going to be around here for a while, maybe you could come over to my house and maybe come swimming or something, if you'd maybe like that or something."

He didn't know what to say, nothing like this had ever happened to him before. Usually the townies tried to stay as far away from the carnies as they could, expecting them to get mugged if they got too close.

"Dick, honey, the young lady invited you over, what do you say?" Oh, God, his mother was laying this on him. He looked over at her, praying she could hear his mental plea to help him. Didn't she realize they could be white slavers or something? If he went to their house, his parents would probably never see him again. This could be it, the end of life as they knew it.

"Don't we have tonight's performance and a three pack tomorrow?" Three shows tomorrow, that's what he meant. Please, don't make me do this. Please, please, please.

"We have a seven o'clock tonight and then tomorrow we don't start until four and it's only a double." His mother looked at the girl's mother who nodded at the unspoken question.

"Dick? Would you like to come over at, say ten? That's not too early, is it? You could stay for lunch and since it's supposed to be so hot tomorrow, if you bring your bathing suit you two could go swimming. Sarah?"

The girl looked like her mother had just told her she could have a new puppy—if he would just come when called. "Could you? It would really be fun." She was practically pleading.

He looked up at his father. Surely he would understand. "But didn't you say you wanted to practice the quad tomorrow morning? You thought it was kinda shaky last night and you said that…"

"You did it perfectly this afternoon; you're fine…All right, tell you what. We'll get in an early practice and make sure you're solid—sound okay to you?" Dad smiled his lady killer smile at the other mother. "I should be able to bring him over at ten, no problem, just give me directions."

The girl, Sarah, was right beside him, close enough that Dick was the only one who heard her. "My real birthday isn't until tomorrow, so you're kind of like a present—my best present." She smiled shyly, blushing and faded back against her mother.

His mother was beside him. "What do you say?"

"…Thank you." The three parents smiled, Sarah looked like she had died and gone to heaven, the other girls giggled jealously and Dick wanted to fall through the ground all the way to China.

Shortly before ten the next morning he was showered, wearing his only pair of not torn jeans, a clean tee and had a pair of cut offs and a towel in a small gym bag.

"You look like you're going to your execution, guy. It's really not that bad—you may even have fun, you know." His Dad was standing next to the Harley, sidecar attached, and handing Dick the small helmet that fit him.

"Why do I have to do this? It's not like I'm ever going to see her again and—Dad—she's a townie. Townies never like us."

His dad leaned against the bike seat, facing Dick. "Your mom thinks, and I think too, it would be a good idea for you to see how other people, people who don't travel with a show all the time live."

"But when we're down in Florida we live like they do in a house and everything so what's the big deal?"

"…You can tell me about the differences when you get back okay? Will you do that for me?"

Not quite sighing as he faced the firing squad, Dick climbed into the sidecar. "This was Mom's idea, wasn't it?"

"…Mostly."

Male understanding passed in the look between them and the Dick put on the helmet he had to wear whenever he was on the Harley. They could talk it over when he got back and it was only one afternoon. No big deal and it wasn't like he'd ever see these people again or anything. He could do this for his mom. "Okay, I'll go."

"That's my guy."

Fifteen minutes later they were pulling into the driveway of a largish suburban house in a development on a street with similar largish houses and tended lawns and SUV's parked out front or visible in the open garages. There were careful flowers in borders and hanging from pots near the front door and one of those wooden flagpoles hanging from a big oak tree with a Peanuts banner of Charlie Brown and the gang in an inflatable pool shouting 'Cowabunga'. Dick hated it on sight.

The Harley made more noise than was probably polite for this place and the silence when the engine was killed was very loud.

The front door opened as they were getting off the bike and both Sarah and her mother came out, smiling. "John, you didn't have any trouble finding the place, did you?" She was walking towards them, Sarah following but slower, still as shy as Dick. "Could I offer you a cup of coffee? Tea? I know Sarah wanted to show Dick the tree house out back and I thought that maybe you'd want to make sure that Dick was comfortable before you left him for a few hours."

"Coffee sounds perfect, if it's no trouble, thanks."

"Dick would you like a soda or something?"

"May I have some water, please?"

"Sarah? Would you get…thank you." The two kids each took a bottle outside to see the promised tree house while John and Susan settled in the kitchen, watching the kids through the large windows overlooking the back yard and pool. "I thought Mary would be here, give us a chance to catch up."

"She wanted some time to see her family." John's answer was mild, they both knew there were a lot of things to be settled there. "And no, Dick doesn't know about any of this, Susan."

"Neither does Sarah." She glanced out the window; the kids were up in the tree house—a work of art with several levels, porches, a hammock and bay windows in the main section. She saw the look on his face. "Jim built that last year. We'd just put the addition on and had all this construction stuff left over—the windows used to be in our bedroom and it just seemed a shame to throw it all out."

He nodded absentmindedly. "Mary wants her parents to meet Dick while we're here."

"Of course she does." She sipped her coffee. "They want to meet him, too; I saw Caroline at the market last week and it was all she could talk about. She's been planning the menu for days."

The kitchen door slammed open. "Mom? Can we go in the pool? It's like seven hundred degrees out there."

"Of course, show Dick where he can change, okay? John, would you like to go in to cool off?" He hesitated. "I'm sure one of Jim's suits would fit you." He smiled, nodded a little reluctantly, "You're sure Dick doesn't know anything about this?"

"I'm sure and please don't tell him yet. Mary and I want to do it ourselves."

"Then you'd better get to it if you're having dinner with them later." She went out of the room, returning a minute later, holding a pair of trunks. "These should fit. You can change in there, I'll meet you out back when you're done"

The kids were already going off the diving board, Dick showing off a little with a couple of flips and Sarah suitably impressed but doing her best to keep up. The two of them were getting along well, as far as the adults could tell, and that was a good thing all things considered.

A couple of hours later, after the swim and the iced tea and as John and Dick were taking off their helmets back at the fairgrounds, Dick gave his father a sharp look. "What was that really about?"

"What do you mean?"

"C'mon, Dad. You knew her; you were talking like you both knew each other and I heard you mention Mom's family like she'd know what you were saying. And Sarah made a couple of comments about how they used to be friends a long time ago."

"Yeah, well, sometimes you're too smart for your own good—I though Sarah didn't know about any of this."

"Yeah, well, that's what her mom thinks, anyway." Dick put the helmet down in the sidecar and looked up at his father. "So…?"

TBC

2/28/06

6


	2. Chapter 2

Feedback: Hell, yes.

Please note: I've made Dick about twelve in this story. His parents are still alive.

**Play date**

**Part Two**

"C'mon, Dad, you know I'll find out sooner or later. You might as well tell me."

Dick and his father were sitting on a couple of lawn chairs—the cheap, folding kind you pick up at K-mart for about four dollars on sale—they'd set them in the shade at the end of the trailer. The first show wasn't for another two hours and they had plenty of time. If they didn't over do it, they might even have some food before hand. Not much, of course this close to a performance, but something to kill the growling. "There isn't all that much to tell."

Dick knew he had him. "But there's something, right? Sarah was saying something about her mother and Mom being old friends—I thought it was weird you guys were so hot on me going over to hang out with some townies."

Damnit, sometimes Dick was too smart. John gave him a look; there was no getting out of this, Dick wouldn't give up until he found out what was going on and they both knew it. Besides, he was going to find out sooner or later, anyway. "Sue Landon—she used to be Susan Johnston, was your mother's room mate their freshman year in college. They've stayed in touch, it's not a big deal."

"Mom went to college?"

"Just for a year, then we met and she decided to drop out so we could be together." John took a drink from his glass of iced tea. It was still really hot out. "We got married a couple of months later and you happened about a year after that."

Dick gave his father a look, a 'c'mon, cough up the rest' kind of look. "But why the big mystery? I mean, this is pretty standard stuff. You and Mom hooked up, she ran away and joined the circus and here we are. What's the rest of the deal?"

Ah hell, he was going to find out sooner or later and if they were all having dinner tomorrow, it was going to be sooner. "This is Sayersville. Your mother grew up here."

John watched the light bulb light up in Dick's face. "So her family is still here? I thought I'd heard they'd moved away from Gotham, well, the 'burbs, anyway. Are we going to see them?"

"They've been in this area since forever, your mother's visiting with her parents now and, assuming everything goes well, we're seeing them tomorrow. There's also a chance they may be at the three o'clock tomorrow."

"_If_ it goes well?" The light bulb was getting brighter. "So, if she's there and we were at Sarah's house to kill time today and keep us busy, I'm guessing there's some stuff going on between Mom and her parents—they're pissed because she broke out of the suburban box and ran away with a gypsy lady killer?"

"Lady killer? Since when am I a 'lady killer'?"

Dick gave him that big smile, the one that lit up the center ring and the one he'd inherited from the Grayson side of the family. "Since you were born. C'mon, Dad—the roustabouts were telling me about your life before you met Mom. You had a girl in every town."

"Don't even go there. And especially don't go there if your mother is around. You hear me?" John looked slightly worried, Dick could spin a story…

"Oh yeah, I hear you. What's it worth to you?"

"Black mail? You're resorting to black mail with your own father? This is the way you're being raised?"

"Half gypsy, remember? Damn right I'm using black mail."

"You behave yourself if we do this dinner with your grandparents and maybe—maybe—I'll think about that idea you had about getting a surfboard when we get down to Florida for the hiatus."

Dick laughed for a second before his smile faded back to the subject at hand. "So what's the deal with Mom and her parents? She never talks about them."

John hesitated, there was nothing to be gained by telling Dick the truth here; that they hated him and had since the first time they'd met after a performance fourteen years ago. The boy didn't need to know about the arguments and the offers Mary had gotten to come 'home' over the years, about the Christmas presents returned unopened and the Birthday cards sent back. It was her father much more than her mother; as far as the man was concerned John was a drifter, poor and uneducated. He wasn't good enough, he'd use her until he was bored and then drop her in whatever town they happened to be in, probably pregnant. Even after they'd married and Dick was born, her father had refused to bend an inch. Oh, sure, Mary had contact with her mother—letters and calls and sometimes she would even join them for a week here and there after telling her husband she was off with friends to her favorite spa in Arizona for a week.

Caroline, Mary's mother, had been skeptical in the beginning, but after the first year or so and especially after her first grandson was born, she was supportive as far as she could be without endangering her own marriage. She was of the old school as far as that went; the wife supported the husband's decisions, he was the head of the family and that was that.

But Mary was her youngest daughter and that wouldn't change, either, so they saw one another when they could and this time they hoped enough time had gone by to allow a rapprochement between everyone. Lately Phillip had wondered occasionally how Mary was getting on, how 'the boy' was and—good lord!—he must be almost a teenager by now, all gangling legs and worried about girls.

Carefully, Caroline had taken out a fairly recent snapshot of Mary and Dick, the two of them in street clothes instead of the costumes Phillip hated so much. They were standing on a chilly looking beach, jeans and windbreakers not keeping them warm enough, hair blowing but they were laughing, arms around one another's waists and looking almost like siblings instead of mother and son. Mary was just thirty this year, still young.

"Your grandparents weren't happy about us getting married, but you must have picked that up, right? Well, they're trying to patch things up for you're mother's sake, so we may all have dinner tomorrow."

"…That's it?" There had to be more to it than just that.

"That's it."

Dick went quiet for a few minutes, then, "So what are they like, the grandparents?"

John got up to get them both a refill of their iced tea. It seemed pretty obvious to Dick he was stalling but when he handed his son his filled glass and sat back down he was ready to talk a little. "They're…they aren't bad people, they just wanted what was best for your mother."

"And that wasn't you?"

He shrugged. "It's a no-brainer, Dick. I'm not rich, we don't have a big house, I can't give your mother the things she grew up with—skiing the Rockies, expensive clothes and nice jewelry, vacations at fancy resorts—they didn't think she'd be happy after the novelty wore off and she might feel like she was trapped in a second rate show playing the small tour circuit."

"But this isn't a second rate show." Dick didn't get it. Well, okay he _got_ it; he just was having trouble buying it. "And you and Mom are really happy together."

"Yeah, well that's why it might work out this time with the Lloyd's. It's been a while now and we're still, you know…"

"Goodness! What are you two looking so serious about? You'd have thought someone died around here." They hadn't heard Mary coming, walking across the field the trailer was parked in. She ran her hand over the top of Dick's head as she walked by and kissed John on the forehead as she sat on the overgrown grass beside them.

No one said anything for a few quiet minutes until Mary broke the slight tension. "Yes, I saw them and it was fine. We're all having dinner tomorrow after they see the show."

"I thought you said they wanted to come to the matinee." Not that it mattered, but John didn't know what else to say at the moment.

"Daddy said they had some business party they were supposed to go to but it's been cancelled so we'll do a late dinner after." She took a drink of John's tea. "Oh, and they'll be at the show, too. He even said he was looking forward to it." This was big—in all they years John had been in the picture, Mary's father had never seen one of the shows. At least he'd never admitted to it, anyway.

"Mom? Do I have to eat with everyone?"

She gave him one of those 'why are you even asking' looks. "I think it would be nice if you did; they _are_ your grandparents." Period. Case closed. He just nodded.

"I thought the show was sold out because it's a benefit." Maybe they couldn't get tickets. Maybe Dick could get out of this after all. It wasn't that he didn't want to meet them or anything, they were his grandparents like she'd said and…Nah, he didn't want to meet them, okay? They'd make his mother cry and ignored him all his life. The hell with 'em.

"I already spoke to Pop, they have good seats in section three. Sue Landon and her husband will be there, too and I think Sarah will be along so you'll have someone your age to talk with. I expect you to make an effort, Dick—do you understand me?"

Great. "I'll behave."

Sarcasm was not his mother's favorite and he got a glare. "See that you do."

"Which benefit is this, the Cancer Society?" Not that it mattered to Dick; a show was a show.

"Something for the Wayne Foundation, I think."

TBC

3/4/06

11


	3. Chapter 3

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**Please note: Death fic****  
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**Playdate**

The next day was a Saturday. Haley's was playing two matinees and then had a ninety-minute break before starting the evening benefit. Dick and his parents did what they always did on triple days; rested when they could, relaxed with their friends and went on when they got their cues. Mary was nervous, hiding behind too bright chatter and John was apprehensive about the dinner afterwards. Dick just wished it was over and they'd already moved on to the next city on the tour. His mother wasn't acting like herself and he didn't like it; she was nervous and uptight and wanted his calm, mellow but fun Mom back. Now, please. Besides, nervous was a bad thing on a trapeze. It really was.

Finally, after too much small talk that trailed off to be replaced by another subject no one cared about, they got the cue to start the opening parade. The music started, the ringmaster made the introductions with suitable flourish and everyone lined up in costume; the clowns, the showgirls, the animal acts, the acrobats, the tumblers, the trapeze artists and made their first circuits around the three rings.

Halfway around Mary touched Dick's elbow. "There they are, wave—third row, Mom's in a blue dress. Smile, sweetie, big smile." He did as he was told, but wasn't really sure which ones were his grandparents since there were a lot of people in the stands tonight. He thought he might have seen Sarah and her mother, though he wasn't sure, since the place was really crowded.

Parade over, they went backstage again to wait for their act to be introduced. One of the things Dick liked about benefits was that they were usually shortened versions of the regular show because people wanted to get it over with so they could go eat their overpriced dinners and drink. They'd be outta here in an hour, ninety minutes tops and then they'd sit through this family dinner thing, go back to the trailer, sleep and move out tomorrow, thank God.

"Dick, did you finish your homework this afternoon?"

His mother was always on his case to do his homework. Jeez. "Yes."

"And you made sure you have clean clothes for tonight? I don't want you wearing that ratty old tee shirt you had on this morning."

'Ratty old tee shirt'? It was his favorite. "I have a clean shirt."

"…Because we're going to a nice restaurant tonight." She touched that lock of hair that was in his eyes again. "And I wish we'd had time to get you a haircut."

"Mary, will you calm down, please? It will be fine; your parents are looking forward to seeing you and Dick and you know they're even feeling a little better about me. Susan will be there to run interference at the show and the restaurant and the kids can just eat and answer any questions that come their way. Besides, you know your parents, especially your mother, is going to dote on Dick and no one will get a word in edgewise once she gets started." He gave her a quick kiss. "Relax? Please?" John tried a reassuring smile, rubbed her shoulders and knew he was in for a long night.

The lion act was finished with the applause dying down, the clown filled car was making the entrance for a slapstick routine; The Flying Graysons were the next act up and they were the finale, other than the company curtain call so, with any luck, they'd be done inside of fifteen or twenty minutes. Dick was starving.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, if I may direct your attention to the center ring…"

"That's him Phillip. Oh my God; he looks exactly like Mary, he could be her twin instead of her son. Just _look_ at him!"

Philip Lloyd agreed, not that he'd admit it. Richard was a striking looking youngster, just like Mary had been, and still was if you wanted to know the truth. From where they were sitting, it looked like the boy hadn't inherited anything from his father other than an unfortunate affection for living like a vagabond. And that ridiculous costume the child was forced to wear, all shiny fabric and sequins, for the love of God. Ridiculous.

But he was a beauty and, much as it killed him to admit it, the three of them looked happy out there in those garish costumes, standing in the cheap spotlights like the paid performers they were.

If she just hadn't met that Grayson character, if he hadn't been so charming, if he didn't have that build and that charm. Oily bastard. She could have had a good life if she hadn't met him. It still might not be too late, but they could talk about that later.

Well, they'd sit through this spectacle then have a decent and civilized meal together. Mary would see what she was missing, what the boy was missing and maybe they could convince her to come to her senses this time.

…For Richard's sake, if nothing else.

"Oh Bruce, you're such a sweetheart to ask me to a circus! How did you know I just love them to death?"

"April, I just kind of had a feeling."

She lowered her voice, whispering into his ear. "I know you're going to think I'm just awful, but which charity are we here for tonight?"

He suppressed a sigh; she was wearing on him. "The Cancer Society."

"Oh! They're a good one, aren't they?"

"…Yes, they are."

The Flying Graysons made their entrance like they always did, though Dick thought his mother was still nervous and she kept looking over to the part of the audience where her parents were sitting. They took off the satin and sequined capes, handed them to one of the showgirls and climbed the narrow ladders up to the platforms, spotlights on them and music building the tension.

There were a bunch of bigwigs in the crowd tonight, there always were for a benefit, but since they were next to Gotham they'd brought in some serious major people this time. Bruce Wayne was here with some hottie sitting next to him; that looked like Donald Trump a few seats over and that had to be the mayor and governor in the front row with their families. Big money benefits brought out bit money people and that was the way it was. They'd probably have to do a short meet and greet afterwards, but it was part of the job. Dick knew the deal; it was one of the things they got paid for.

The lights dimmed, leaving them alone in the follow spots with the blue backlights for atmosphere, the beading on their costumes sparkling as they moved. They started with the usual simple warm up passes, back and forth. John handed Dick over to Mary, Mary turned a single flip to a catch, and Dick passed back to his father from the platform. They were all moving well and the routine was going well tonight.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, your attention, please. If I may have total silence as Richard Grayson will endeavor to perform the most difficult move ever attempted on the trapeze, one of only three people in the world to master this particular move and the youngest performer in history ever to complete the quadruple flip…and he will make his attempt…without a net!" On cue the net was dropped to the ground, a clanking whoosh as it fell.

The drummer played a riff as Dick left the platform, pumping his legs to get the height and distance to make the four complete turns, John hanging from his knees on the other bar, hands ready to catch his son when the timing was right. The follow spots were on them, their costumes sparkling just enough, the drum building to a climax.

Legs tight together, form perfect, as it had to be to complete the trick. Dick released at the right moment, tucked instantly, turned almost too fast to count, straightened out, his hands slapping onto his father's wrists with a solid thwack. The musicians played a fanfare the audience exploded the way they did every show and Dick heard the "Good job, son", just like he did every time the trick was caught. He smiled his thanks, knowing how proud he father was; Dick cold do stuff no one else could—well, pretty much no one else and it was a rush.

Dick made the easy pass to the other bar, landing a second later on the platform beside his mother. His part of the show was done now, though they'd been talking about changing the act so that the quad was the finale; maybe next week when they got to Metropolis. He stood back as far as he could on the small rectangle of plywood to make room for her to do her special trick. He saw her glance down to the section her parents were sitting, hoping they'd be pleased with her this time and still looking nervous. He was glad this was the last trick.

In all the years she'd been doing the act, she'd never rally felt like she was quite as good as she should be. John had been doing this all his life and Dick, goodness, John had him hanging from the shower rod when he was eighteen months. Dick could turn a flip as easily as he could breathe but she'd only learned this when she was eighteen and she was still a little frightened. Mary held the bar, took the hop and swung away to turn a double layout into John's hands.

All right, just one more pass, one more layout and then a double pass and they were done.

She threw the layout, easier than the double but the timing was tricky. John smiled at her, their grip locked, there was a slip, the snap and they were falling.

They were falling for hours, for seconds. They knew immediately what was happening. Yes, they knew.

Oh, God, Dick; what would happen to Dick? He was still a baby…

Her parents…

She loved John…

John loved her…

Dick…

Oh God.

They didn't feel the landing, it was so quick and John died instantly, his skull fractured. Both of them had broken their backs, severed their spinal cords and couldn't feel anything but Mary could still move her eyes, for a minute or two, and she looked up to where Dick was staring down in horror, scrambling down the ropes before he moved out of her line of vision and she was so sad for him. At least her parents were here and would take care of him. They had to, there was no other choice.

In the stands the audience was screaming, pointing, shocked, covering their mouths and their eyes with their hands. Caroline stared, disbelieving and had the incongruous thought, "But we were supposed to have dinner and we made reservations. We'll have to call." She stood up, about to run down to the sawdust floor but Philip took her arm, holding her back. She tried to pull free, but he was so much stronger than she was.

"Philip, for God's sake. Mary…That poor child…"

"He's a stranger, he doesn't know us—we wouldn't be any help."

"Of course we can help, we're his grandparents."

"Grandparents he's never met. Don't get involved with this. He has people down there looking after him. Get your coat."

"No, I have to…Phillip—please!"

"I told you to get your coat." She did as she was told, as she always did. In the car he pulled out his cell phone, canceling the reservation then calling Susan, still at the circus, to say the plans had changed so she should make other arrangements for herself and Sarah this evening.

Dick was on the ground by this time, kneeling beside his parents, surrounded by circus people, their bright costumes incongruous under the harsh work lights that had been switched on. The paramedics were there in minutes, placing John on a wheeled stretcher with a sheet covering his body and face. They worked on Mary for a couple of minutes, blocking Dick's view, giving her oxygen and some kind of drugs but finally placed her on another stretcher, covered by another sheet. For the rest of his life he was torn about that; distraught at having missed the last few moments with his mother, but grateful he hadn't actually watched her die.

Dick was led over to the first row of seats by one of the clowns, the man's arm around the boy's shoulders as he stared, uncrying, at the ground.

Susan Landon tried to get through, but the police stopped her as soon as she, unthinkingly, admitted that she wasn't related to the poor people who'd been killed, assured that the circus people would take care of him and the social workers had been called. Sarah had tried to get through to Dick as well, but he was surrounded by a bunch of people and he looked like Mr. Jackson did after his car accident in front of their house last year. He was all pale and staring, but it was like he didn't really know what was going on. Sarah wasn't able to sleep that night or for several nights afterwards. She'd drop off then wake with nightmares, begging her mother to please, please let her try to call Dick. Finally she wrote him a letter, sent care of Haley's Circus, but it was never forwarded to him and was eventually lost.

Bruce Wayne was allowed through because he was Bruce Wayne and he took over comforting the child when the clown had to answer police questions about whether or not he knew anything about what happened. He spoke quietly to Dick, the words not really mattering so much as the soothing tone of his voice and the strength of his arm holding the boy upright and only loosening his grip when members of the circus came over, hugging him, letting him lean against them, telling him how they'd take care of him and how he was part of their family. "You aren't to worry about anything, you have a home and you're loved. That won't change, Dick." Janey, the bearded lady was kneeling in front of him, holding his hands. "You're part of us and you know circus people take care of their own, right? You're going to be all right, sweetheart, I promise."

Dick looked at her, unanswering, confused and in shock.

Commissioner Gordon made his way over. He'd been at the benefit himself, naturally staying when the accident happened—though he didn't assume it actually was an 'accident'. "Bruce? This is Linda Weinstein, she's a caseworker and she's going to make sure Dick here is taken care of. Thank you for your help, but we'll take it from here."

"Won't he stay with the show? I mean, it's his home; he knows all these people." Gordon could tell Bruce didn't like this and you wanted to keep someone like Wayne happy. It made life a lot easier. "The boy should be where he feels safe and cared for."

"I wish he could, but the show is supposed to leave tomorrow and we may have to keep him here as a witness. Besides", he lowered his voice, "We don't know if the boy was also a target, so we want to keep a close eye on him."

"Does he have any family in the area?"

Gordon knelt beside the child. "Dick, son, can you tell me if you have any relatives we could call?" The question was asked gently but the trembling child just continued to stare at the sawdust.

A clown, the same one who had been comforting Dick a little while ago volunteered, "I don't think so—Mary's family pretty much cut her off after she married John and I think all of John's family is still over in Europe, or dead." Gordon nodded his thanks.

Gordon spoke over Dick's head to Bruce. "He'll be taken care of, you have my word on that. I'll see to it myself." His hand was on Dick's shoulder. "You're going to be well looked after, son, we're going to take care of you."

In the end, of course, despite the best of intentions, the child was sent—temporarily—to juvenile detention for the night simply because of the lateness of the hour and the need to protect him. A few days later Jim Gordon, busy with a hundred other things, asked one of his assistants to find out what had happened to the circus kid. The answer came back that he was fine and was adjusting as well as could be expected. The small detail that he was still in a cell was glossed over because the assistant was new and assumed the Commissioner already knew that.

Caroline, Dick's unknown grandmother also tried to find out how the poor thing was faring, but because she was afraid to admit she was a blood relation, was politely fobbed off with bland assurances that he was just fine, thank you for asking. She almost went behind Philip's back and simply admitted the relationship so she could find out the truth, but she knew how her husband would react. She'd seen his temper, lived with it for almost thirty years now and yes, she'd thought about leaving him, but he controlled all the money and no one would believe how he really was. Besides, he told her he loved her, or he used to anyway, before he became so busy. And it wasn't like they really knew the boy; he'd be fine, he really would. The professionals were very careful about this sort of thing nowadays.

Sarah tried to write Dick a card, also sent care of the circus, but it was returned as 'Addressee Unknown'. About six or seven years later she thumbed through People standing in the checkout line while buying groceries. The cover subject was about Robin, and the article was wondering where he'd disappeared to lately; Batman had been out and about as usual, but his partner was MIA, causing all kinds of speculation that he was injured or even dead. She was drawn to the picture, it looked familiar, he looked familiar and she'd been following his career for years, ever since he became known. He friends had teased her about her crush but she either ignored them or joked along with them He was cute, he seemed smart and nice and he wasn't anything like the jerks in school. In fact, she knew he wasn't and she remembered how he'd turned a quadruple flip when he was twelve years old and how he had the bluest eyes she'd ever seen.

But she never told anyone who he really was.

3/9/06

19


End file.
